


Hindsight is 20/20 (You Never Know)

by SoftIceCream



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: Anorexia, Eating Disorders, F/M, Mental Health Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:21:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24355717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftIceCream/pseuds/SoftIceCream
Summary: In hindsight, it didn’t surprise Pam. All the signs were there, even if she ignored them.--Pam (and the entire office) find out Jim's struggling with an eating disorder.
Relationships: Pam Beesly/Jim Halpert
Comments: 19
Kudos: 85





	Hindsight is 20/20 (You Never Know)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ProfJamie20](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfJamie20/gifts), [PrismaPup7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrismaPup7/gifts).



> This work has not been beta read. If you see any mistakes, let me know.
> 
> This work is based on a prompt given in ProfJamie20's "Jim Halpert Centric One-Shots" by PrismaPup7. I felt inspired to write it since I always head cannoned Jim having an eating disorder for some reason.

In hindsight, it didn’t surprise Pam. All the signs were there, even if she ignored them. Like the way Jim ate the same standardized lunch every day. If the office ate out or ordered in, Jim would always excuse himself and eat alone. A ham and cheese sandwich. Low-calorie bread, two thin slices of ham, lettuce, and if he were feeling fancy, a slice of low-calorie cheese. He’d eat exactly eleven baby carrots and drink water. Once, Jim apparently miscounted how many baby carrots he packed in his lunch and asked Pam for one of hers. She had carrots sticks instead and offered one to Jim. He measured her stick against his baby carrot and snapped off the excess carrot before handing it back to her. She found it odd but didn’t comment on his behavior. Jim was her best friend but even she could admit that he could be a little bizarre at times.

Or maybe it was like the time Jim blew up at Dwight after his coffee run. If Jim drank coffee he took it black. If he drank lattes, which he rarely did, then it needed to have almond milk. The only other substitute he’d accept was cashew milk and most places didn’t have that. So black coffee it was. Plain black tea was also acceptable. However, when it was Dwight’s turn to get coffee for the office he’d accidentally gotten Jim a whole milk latte instead of the black coffee he wanted. He’d gotten disproportionately angry over with Dwight the gaff. Pam had never seen Jim so angry and over something so minor. Because a gaff was exactly what it was. Dwight and Jim had a tense relationship, yes, and Dwight was the type of person to ruin Jim’s coffee order just to fuck with him. But given Dwight’s aghast reaction Pam knew he didn’t do it.

“Halpert, I did not tamper with your Starbucks order,” Dwight murmured under his breath, trying to placate Jim.

“Fuck you, Dwight,” Jim spat.

Well.

Or maybe it was like all the times they’d hung out outside of work. Whenever they wanted to meet for lunch or dinner or brunch or even at a cafe Jim had to be the one who picked. Pam never had a say in what they ate. It negatively reminded Pam of Roy. Controlling and assertive for no reason. It put Pam off of Jim a few times. She liked him, liked him more than a friend, but the attribute was unattractive.

So, no, in hindsight Pam wasn’t shocked. That didn’t mean she didn’t feel bad.

Dwight had caused a fire in the office which in turn caused Stanley to have a heart attack. Typical Dwight things. After the commotion died down, Michael and Dwight took it upon themselves to update their safety preparedness plans to accommodate any employee susceptible to heart attacks. Stanley, Phyllis, Kevin, maybe Creed. They read through all of the employees’ records to check for any conditions.

In Jim’s file, it read “mitral valve prolapse”. After looking it up Dwight and Michael found that it was a certain type of heart condition. Shocked that Jim had heart problems, they conferred with Pam.

“And it says here that he has bradycardia and hypotension. Jim is like super sick, Pam,” Michael whined. “I can’t have Jim dying on me! He’s like a son or a best friend. If one could be best friends with their son then Jim is that to me.”

“Now I know why he reacted the way he did when I was picking the insurance plan,” Dwight scoffed. “All of his little conditions will run up a premium on the plan.”

Pam didn’t want to admit it but Dwight was right, Jim did have a lot of conditions. “We shouldn’t be reading this, this is an invasion of Jim’s privacy. If he wanted us to know then we’d know.”

“You’re just upset that Jim never told you he had a weak heart,” Dwight said.

Pam pushed it to the back of her mind.

* * *

Pam felt no shock but plenty hurt and a lot of guilt. Two days later, Michael threw a surprise party for Jim. His reasoning was that “Jimbo had the best sales this quarter and deserved being appalled for his hard work,” much to the ire of Dwight. The party didn’t consist of much except a large chocolate cake and some balloons filled with hot breath-air that Michael found in his desk. He shepherded everyone into the conference room and pulled Jim into the middle of the makeshift circle. Michael put the cake in Jim’s hands before stabbing a fork in it and bringing an enormous piece to Jim’s lip. Jim flinched, causing the fork to miss and icing to smear across his cheek. Some of their coworkers chuckled at Michael’s antics.

“What are you doing,” Jim asked, annoyed. He dodged another attempt by Michael to shove cake in his mouth, only to bump into Dwight who put Jim in a headlock, immobilizing him. Everyone began yelling at Dwight’s surprise attack, with some of the men trying to pry Dwight off of Jim. Michael used the distraction to stick the cake into Jim’s mouth. Jim spit it back at Michael’s face and dropped the cake in his hands on the floor. Dwight released Jim who fell to the ground, narrowly missing the cake splatter. Jim glared up at Michael, taking more offense to the cake being shoved in his mouth than he did Dwight manhandling him. “What the fuck, Michael,” Jim yelled. The room got quiet, unsure of how to proceed. It was rare that Jim raised his voice, much less cursed. It was jarring and a bit frightening.

“I was just trying to help you,” Michael stuttered out.

“I don’t need help! I didn’t ask you to throw this party, Michael. What are you even talking about?”

“I looked at your file to make sure you were okay if we had another fire drill. But you have heart problems. And I googled everything wrong with you like your slow heartbeat and low blood pressure and your heart is hurt because you’re anorexic. I thought if I gave you cake you’d gain weight and feel better.”

All eyes were on Jim. Some people gawked, raking their eyes over his body trying to confirm if what Michael said was true. Others, like Oscar and Phyllis, chuckled awkwardly out of shock. Pam moved to help Jim up. He slapped her hand away. No one else could see the rage and burning hatred in Jim’s eyes. Pam wasn’t sure if it were directed at her, or Michael, or potentially everyone present in the room for having to bear witness to his humiliation.

Jim stood up on his own and exited the conference room without a word. He didn’t need to confirm or deny. Everyone had made up their minds on whether it was true or not. 

Pam followed Jim outside, where he was sitting on the bench in front of the building. He sat curled in on himself, silent and unmoving. Pam sat next to him, putting space between them in case Jim wanted to be alone. “Hey,” she said, omitting the “are you okay,” on the tip of her tongue. He obviously wasn’t so it was a dumb question to ask.

“Hey, Beesley,” he said back.

“Don’t listen to Michael, Jim. He pulled that out of his butt. He just went with the first thing he saw on the internet. The fact that you’re thin also added to his suspicions. I’m sorry he was intrusive with your health records.”

“It’s true, though,” Jim said, not looking Pam in the eyes. “It’s true.”

“...oh.”

“But it’s not a problem, not anymore. It hasn’t been in a while. I go to the doctor regularly, and a nutritionist, and a psychologist. I’m fine. I put that stuff on the health form when I first started, but I don’t have any of those problems anymore. I’m perfectly healthy.”

It sounded spiteful and misleading coming from Jim’s lips as if he weren’t happy that he was healthy. But Pam thought back to Jim's behavior when it came to food, and how little he ate either serving-wise or calorie-wise and wondered if that were true. But she trusted Jim knew what was good for his health and was on the right track. She trusted he wouldn’t lie to her. So she took his hand in his and squeezed it in silent solidarity. They got up and she led him back into the building.

* * *

Pam assumed too much of her coworkers that they would leave Jim alone about his health issues. The next day at lunch Angela sat across from them in the break room. Jim looked up from his ham and cheese sandwich—this time featuring mayo and tomatoes, probably to show Pam that he was totally okay—in shock and confusion.

“Can I help you,” Jim asked politely. Angela opened her lunch bag and pulled a giant walnut-cinnamon roll out. She pushed it toward the middle of the table silently, eyeing Jim for his reaction. He tried not to show it but Pam could tell he was upset and repulsed by the cinnamon roll. 

“Eat it,” Angela said, shoving it closer to Jim’s hand.

He slid it back. “I don’t want it.”

“There’s only four-hundred calories in it. You’re a large man so you should eat at least twenty-five hundred a day.”

Obviously upset at being called a “large man”, Jim picked it up and dumped it in the trash can behind him. Angela tsked like a disappointed teacher and pulled an identical cinnamon roll out of her bag. This time, she stood up and walked beside Jim, before bringing it to his lips herself. “Eat it,” she repeated.

Jim stood to leave but noticed Kevin and Oscar in both doors. Kevin grinned while Oscar gave him a hesitant yet reassuring smile or his best attempt at one. They were blocking the exits so he couldn’t leave.

“Oscar, are you serious,” Pam asked incredulously.

“It’s a good cinnamon roll,” Kevin said. “I’ve eaten like four today, Jim. Sooo good.”

Jim could no longer hide his disgust. He looked at Kevin with contempt Pam never knew Jim to have for anyone, not even Dwight. Angela stood on Jim’s chair and forced the roll past his lips and into his mouth. 

“Just eat it. You should eat one sweet a day so you get enough calories. It’ll help you maintain your weight.”

“Cool it, Angela,” Jim warned after spitting the cinnamon roll out. “I know what’s best for my health. Not you.”

“Really? Because if you did, you wouldn’t be anorexic, Jim. As the safety officer, it seems that I have to take your health into my hands. Just so you don’t drop dead. I never heard of a man having anorexia, honestly.” Angela mumbled the last part to herself. She wasn’t quite enough, because Jim heard her. He pushed past Oscar and stormed out of the office for the second time that week.

“Really, Angela? And Oscar, I expected better from you,” Pam said.

“We’re worried about him,” Oscar said. “We’ve noticed he doesn’t eat that much while at work. And he’s here all day. He isn’t eating properly. If we watch him then he’d be in better health.”

“How do you know he’s even anorexic,” Pam asked, heart beating wildly. If she realized Jim wasn’t eating healthily then it wasn’t strange that Angela and Oscar would notice too. Oscar gave her a pitying look. “Are we really taking the word of a man who thought he had diabetes because he peed a lot after drinking coffee as the gospel?”

“Well, if he isn’t then he still doesn’t eat enough. But who knows what he gets up to at home? Maybe he eats enough before and after work. Still, we care about him and want to make sure he’s okay.”

“Well, can you be more subtle about it? Forcing him to eat will only upset him!”

“If he’s not anorexic then forcing him to eat wouldn’t be a problem,” Angela said. “This is the second time he’s spit a dessert out. He obviously has issues.”

“Yeah, who would spit out dessert,” Kevin asked. “It’s like the best meal of the day. If I could, I’d get all skinny like Jim just so I could eat dessert all day.”

“You should try it then,” Angela said. “If anyone deserves to be anorexic, it’s you.”

Pam rolled her eyes and followed Jim out of the break room.

* * *

It continued like that for a few weeks. Everyone would “subtly” sneak Jim extra food and watch him eat. Phyllis and occasionally Angela would bake Jim desserts and try to force it on him in the morning. Michael invited Jim out to lunch every day and begged him out to dinner every night. Andy tried making Jim breakfast and when that failed, he tried carpooling with him to “make sure Tuna is eating the meal for Champions!” Dwight got in on it too, obviously concerned about his nemesis-slash-friend’s health, although he preferred insulting Jim about his body in hopes that it’d spur him to gain weight. 

Jim stopped eating lunch in the break room. Instead, he and Pam ate outside or at a park a block away just to get some alone time. Pam could tell it was fraying his nerves.

She caught Jim outside once, crying to himself. Even though he could be emotional, Pam had never known Jim to cry. “What’s wrong,” she asked Jim. He wiped his tears away and smiled at her. 

“I’m fine, Beesley. My allergies are acting up.”

Pam didn’t press it. “Where do you want to eat?”

“I can’t do lunch today, I have a doctor’s appointment.”

Pam tried not to pry. If he said he had to go to the doctor then she believed him. “What time will you be back?”

“I’ll leave a little before lunch and be back maybe thirty minutes after. I’ll try to eat on the way back if that’s what you wanted to say.”

“I wanted to ask what you were going to the doctor for. Finally getting your eyesight checked?”

“C’mon Beesley, you have to admit Hilary Swank is hot,” Jim joked. He then became somber. “No, I have to do check-ins with my doctor. Make sure I’m an adequate weight and everything.”

“Ah…”

“Sorry, I’m making you uncomfortable.” Jim stood up and stretched and for a brief moment, Pam caught a glimpse of Jim’s skin underneath his button-down. He was bony. She knew he was bony just from handling him, but she never considered he was that way by choice and not design. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” he continued, “I didn’t want anyone to know. It’s awkward.”

“It’s not awkward,” Pan replied. “Not on my part. You’re my best friend, Jim. I’d never find you any more awkward than you already are.”

“How sweet. You’re my best friend too, Pam. We should head in then? See what awaits us in the fifth circle of hell?”

This time, Jim stuck his hand out for Pam to help her up. It didn’t matter if it were bony or not, something about Jim’s hand in hers felt right. Pam wanted to say something to Jim about it because she thought he felt the same way too. But she was convinced that now wasn’t the right time. But if this were a persistent issue for Jim then when would it be the right time?

* * *

Jim wasn’t holding up as well as he’d like. He tried not to let it show, bar the one time Pam found him crying, but it was getting increasingly difficult for him to deal with the comments and stares his coworkers gave him. He couldn’t understand why everyone was targeting him. Jim tried hard to maintain his weight the way his doctors wanted him to. A lot of times he missed the mark and found himself losing weight again. But he was never as sick as he’d been in the past. But maybe he was getting reckless again? Weren’t they trying to give him food because his body looked off?

Because he looked fat?

He looked like he’d eat anything so his coworkers gave him anything. The way that Oscar or Angela sometimes gave Kevin their leftovers. They all viewed him the way they viewed Kevin. The thought disgusted Jim.

He never told anyone but Jim deeply hated himself. He hated the way he looked, the act he acted, the way he spoke, the way he dressed. He was too tall and his body was disproportionate. He could never lose enough weight and fat clung to his body in all the wrong places. He hated his large eyes, nose, and lips. He hated his big hands and feet. His voice sounded awful and at times he couldn’t stand hearing himself speak. When he was alone he did his absolute best to avoid mirrors and avoid talking. He wore baggy clothes everywhere except work, where he was reprimanded on his second day for not dressing professionally. He couldn’t stand himself. That was probably why he hated Dwight so much (outside of him being annoying): Dwight was happy with himself and comfortable in his own skin. Jim didn’t know what that felt like and never had. It was awful to say but Jim resented anyone happy with themselves. He disliked anyone who didn’t feel the way he felt about himself about themselves. And that often included Pam.

But he didn’t act on it. Because he liked people too. Liked them more than he resented them. And he thought the feeling was mutual with his coworkers. He hoped that even though he didn’t like himself that others could find something about him to like. But apparently not. His coworkers had found out about his problem and had thrown it back in his face. He knew he was fat. Misshapen. Freakish. But being fat was what his doctors and family deemed best for him. He hated himself for it and wished he could be smaller again. He knew he looked bad and chunky and swollen and ugly. He didn’t want to be reminded of it constantly.

The final straw was Dwight giving him a meat sandwich of some sort. He threw it on the desk in front of Jim, and said, “Eat this at lunch. It’s heartier than the nonsense you eat.” Jim ate enough food that he didn’t break one-thirty-five on the scale. He weighed the bare minimum his doctor and nutritionist would allow him to be and even that was more than he’d like.

“There’s nothing wrong with what I eat, Dwight.”

Dwight snorted. “Obviously, yes, idiot. It’s a fact that your body looks ghastly and gross the way it is. It’d be in your best interest to do something about it.”

Jim ran. He left the office after that and ran to the park. He couldn’t take the constant jeering and taunting at work. Dwight and everyone else finally knew his weakness, knew what made him tick. And they’d stop at nothing to provoke him now that they knew. Jim had it coming to himself given his treatment of Dwight. He couldn’t be mad. But it sucked that everyone knew his body bothered him.

It sucked that Pam knew it.

Once he was done crying his eyes out at the park, Jim walked back to the office just in time for lunch. He ate in the break room, and for once nobody bothered him. He ate his tasteless, condiment-less, joyless sandwich in peace. When he moved on to his baby carrots he noticed Kelly staring at him from the door. 

“What,” he asked roughly. Kelly made a beeline towards him and sat in the chair next to Jim. She placed her lunch bag on the table and pulled out its contents. A sandwich and baby carrots, along with her water bottle.

“I’ve been trying to eat like you,” Kelly said by way of greeting. “But it’s so hard! You have so much self-control, Jim! I really admire you.”

“Why,” Jim asked, stumped.

“You look great! I always find myself snacking and eating and I’ve gained so much weight. But you always look good and that’s because of your restraint.”

That was the first time anyone ever told Jim they admired him. Or said he looked good. He didn’t really believe her. “Kelly, go away.”

“Seriously, Jim! You’re so hot, I bet girls throw themselves at you! How do you do it? Stay so thin?”

Jim looked down at Kelly’s sandwich. It had regular cheese, four slices of roast beef, and white bread. He shuddered. “First, use low-calorie bread. You might as well eat a stick of butter if you’re using white bread…”

Kelly smiled brightly at him and for the first time in weeks, Jim didn’t feel judged. 

It was nice.

* * *

Pam noticed that Jim and Kelly had gotten closer. It was strange. Jim didn’t hate Kelly but under normal circumstances, he could stand being around her. But now they were joined at the hip. Whenever they had lunch Kelly had to join them. And even stranger than that, Jim entertained her. He listened to her inane stories and offered up advice that was more helpful than any of Kelly’s “problems” required. They hung out outside of work too now, not that Jim ever told her. Pam heard about it from Ryan, who could barely contain his jealousy when complaining about Kelly’s lack of time for him. In turn, Jim had less time for her.

Not that she was jealous. Pam would never be jealous of Kelly.

Then, Jim stopped making lunch plans with Pam. They still spent part of their lunch break together but Jim refused to actually eat with her. “I told my therapist about what’s happening here,” Jim whispered lowly. “She recommended I eat by myself for a little while until this blows over. It’d help boost my self-confidence or something like that.”

Pam tried to believe he wasn’t lying. 

At least he ditched Kelly too?

But then, three weeks into Jim’s “eating alone” exercise, did she notice that Kelly ate a similar lunch to that of Jim’s. “Whatcha eating today,” Pam asked Kelly, eyeballing her meal. Kelly wasn’t a big girl but she wasn’t thin either. She was curvy and had a nice, soft, slightly voluptuous figure. She was healthy. So why did her lunch look like an attempt to starve herself?

“Oh! Today I have a sammie and veggies. Well, it’s what I eat every day for lunch. I’m on a diet right now.”

Kelly was always on a diet. Pam internally rolled her eyes. “What diet are you doing now?”

“It’s not a diet so much as I’m counting calories. I eat like two-hundred-and-fifty calories for breakfast, another two-hundred for lunch, and then around five-hundred for dinner. I’m starving but I’ve lost fifteen pounds in the last two months!”

“But you’re eating less than a thousand calories a day. That’s hard to maintain. Not to mention unhealthy. Your body isn’t even getting enough nutrients to function.”

“I think I’ll be okay,” Kelly said dismissively. “Jim’s been doing this for years and he’s fine.”

Pam scooted closer to Kelly, who ate her bland sandwich, oblivious to her own words. “What do you mean, Jim’s been doing this for years?”

Kelly chewed her lip and looked down nervously. She looked extremely guilty as if she knew a heavy secret no one else knew. “Well, he used to,” Kelly said slowly. “He told me he ate like this back in...college? Well, like this and using ipecac. But I couldn’t find any ipecac so I’m stuck with nasty, dry bread and unseasoned fish! But it works!”

Pam sighed. She didn’t normally think Kelly was a bad person, just stupid. Very stupid. “Jim confided in you about his struggles with food and your first thought was “wow, that sounds amazing! I want to try?” Kelly, does that make sense?”

“It doesn’t have to make sense, it has to work. And it works for Jim!”

Pam didn’t miss the present tense usage of “work”. She trusted Jim to be honest with her about his health because they were best friends. But maybe she put too much stock in that trust considering three months ago she hadn’t known he had an eating disorder, to begin with, and they had been friends for six years prior. Jim could omit information if he wanted to, and say what he thought other people wanted to hear.

Pam left Kelly to her “meal” before pausing at the door. “Did Jim give you that,” she asked, pointing to Kelly’s lunch. Kelly nodded happily.

“He did! Honestly, Jim is so cool, I'm so envious of his willpower. I didn’t think I could last this long but he’s been a big help to me. Can you believe he’s been doing it for _decades_? That’s dedication.”

* * *

They weren’t supposed to. Pam wasn’t sure anyone did, but she had to. It was creepy and it was spying, even if she weren’t the one doing the recording. But she had to know.

She asked the production crew if they caught what Jim did during the first part of his lunch break. Guilty, some of the crew handed over a compilation of Jim’s lunch breaks from the last two months. He’d usually sit in his car for fifteen to twenty minutes, listening to the radio or browsing social media. He never ate with the sole of except for a tiny sip of carrot juice and a stick of gum to give the illusion that he’d eaten but cleaned his mouth out. Some days Jim didn’t bother with that and instead only did mouthwash so anyone who questioned him would think he brushed his teeth after eating. Pam herself had fallen for those tricks. 

Whenever they hung out outside of work, which was becoming increasingly less frequent, Jim stopped bothering with picking a restaurant. Before, he’d always choose small plate places or healthy restaurants. Salad bars, vegan, sushi, or even Tropical Smoothie Cafe on a number of occasions. Or someplace he could get away with eating very little because Pam didn’t know any better. A bit here or there, or eating off of Pam’s plate. But now Jim led them to places like the park, or the movies, or laser tag, or just shopping. And they’d either jump from one activity to the next before Pam could recommend eating or end their excursions after one activity so eating was never the next option.

Jim looked tired all of the time. He had heavy, dark bags underneath his eyes and his skin looked a little grey. His hair was dull and lifeless. And when Jim was tired, he was irritable. He had even less patience for Michael and Dwight’s antics and routinely snapped at them. He tried pinning it on video games, and then insomnia, but Pam got the feeling Jim had low energy because he wasn’t eating.

He was sick. Again.

She wondered how long he had been sick. In his current “flare-up” if she could call it that, and in general. A few months ago corporate had incentivized weight loss at the branch level by having weekly weigh-ins. Jim seemed a bit more gung-ho to participate in the program than he had any other work-related event. Had that spurred Jim on? Or had he been declining before then? Had Pam known then that Jim was anorexic she would have advocated that he not participate, even if it upset him. Or was this really due to everyone finding out he had anorexia? Their coworkers could be crude and overbearing but they were genuinely trying to help. Did their concern upset Jim so much that he resorted to harming himself again? Pam couldn’t wrap her mind around it. Or maybe it was the accumulation of a lot of little things. For instance, the easiest way for Dwight to shut Jim down was by commenting on his build. Neither Pam nor Dwight thought much about it but Jim probably internalized every comment about his body anyone had ever made. Angela made jokes about the entire office being fat, Jim included. And hearing Kelly prattle endlessly about whatever fad diet she was on couldn’t have helped either. It didn’t do Pam any good trying to figure out what set Jim off, especially when Jim himself probably didn’t know.

Pam wasn’t sure how to help him. Jim had to be accountable for his own health, he was an adult. And how could she help an adult who clearly didn’t want help? But she wanted to be there for him. Forcing him to eat wouldn’t help and if anything, that was likely the cause of his recurrent bout of anorexia. Maybe she could visit his doctor with him, to give him emotional support? But Jim would be ashamed if she did that. Pam spent hours online looking for ways to help Jim. Just as she thought, she couldn’t force him to get help. All she could do was talk to him and hope he’d listen.

She needed to find the right timing.

* * *

Pam was still working on how to approach Jim. She didn’t want to wait too long in case something bad happened. One of the most commonly cited ways to help a loved one with an eating disorder was telling someone else about your suspicions. Pam was dubious. The entire office already knew and it wasn’t doing any good for Jim’s mental or physical health. She’d found him in the back stairwell, crying his eyes out again. He couldn’t use his allergies as an excuse anymore since it was June. He looked thin enough that his weight loss was now apparent on his face.

Pam knocked on the door of the address she found online. She stood silent as a middle-aged, balding man came and answered the door.

“Hello,” he said curiously. “How can I help you?”

“Uhm,” Pam said, losing nerve. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. “Are you Peter Halpert?”

The man—Peter—stepped outside of his house and joined Pam on the front porch. “I am! You are…?”

“Uhm, I’m Pam Beesly—.”

“Oh! You’re Jim’s friend!” At the mention of her name Peter’s features melted from skeptical to warm and welcoming. “I never thought I’d meet you this way! Are you here for tips to woo my younger brother?”

Pam cringed. She wished she were here for that. “No. I’m not sure how to address this—.”

“Call me Pete!”

“—Pete. But there’s something wrong with Jim. I don’t know how to talk to him about it myself so I thought we could do it together.”

Pete sighed. “Okay.”

“Okay? I didn’t tell you what’s wrong yet.”

Pete entered his house and exited with his jacket and keys. “You don’t have to say a thing. I already know.”

* * *

Jim was surprised when Pam texted him that she was outside his house. It wasn’t like Pam to come over unannounced. Ignoring the cramps surging through his body, Jim got out of bed to answer the door. On his porch stood Pam, a strained smile inscribed on her pretty face. Jim unlocked the screen door and allowed Pam in. He left her to close the door while he went to the kitchen to make tea he only kept around because she liked it.

“What’s up,” Jim asked Pam, handing her the steeping tea. She fiddled with the tag of the teabag, the way she did whenever she was nervous. 

“How’ve you been, Jim?”

He rolled his eyes. “No different from when you asked me that yesterday, Beesly. How’s your weekend going?”

“Good so far, I went shopping with Penny and Isabel for a while before going on a long drive.”

“Hanging with family is always fun,” Jim said levelly.

“It is! It allows you to recalibrate after a long week, which we need cuz of you know, Michael.”

“And Dwight,” Jim smiled.

“Andy.”

“Creed.”

“Meredith can be a lot too, sometimes,” Pam laughed. “You should hang out with your family too, Jim.”

Jim and Pam had the conversation about why Jim wasn’t close to his family multiple times. Although, given his current situation, he hadn’t been totally honest with her about why it was strained. Still, he groaned, not wanting to talk about his brother and parents anymore.

“They annoy me. I’d rather be alone.”

“They annoy you because they love you, that’s what family does.”

“Is that why Michael is the way he is,” Jim challenged. “Dwight? Some people are annoying for the sake of being annoying.”

“Yeah, I believe Michael and Dwight are so annoying because they care. Nobody taught them how to be normal humans so they’re always extra, but. They care about you. What could your brother have done that was so bad that you don’t want to talk to him?”

It was a lot. Jim’s brother was twelve years older than he was so he was never around much when Jim was a kid. Jim had been a mistake his parents had later in life and was occasionally treated as such. As far as Pete went he was a cool if not distant older brother who’d help Jim out if he got into any serious trouble but never for anything less severe. The bulk of Jim’s interactions with his brother came from Pete handling him when his _problem_ got to be too much for his parents and they wanted to wash their hands of him. The most memorable interaction came from Pete having Jim committed his sophomore year of college. Jim ended up having to spend six weeks in a psych ward, forced to gain weight for his “illness”. Jim deeply resented Pete for putting him in that situation. Even now Pete was invasive about Jim’s life, not because he cared, but because he felt obligated due to Jim being “sick”.

“I talk to him,” Jim reminded her. “I don’t want to be physically around him. I don’t trust him. But it’s fine. I’m busy with my life and he’s busy with his.”

“Maybe he wants to visit you.”

“I think it’s cute you enjoy your family,” Jim said with a smile. “Endearing, really. But I don’t care for mine and they don’t care for me. That’s life sometimes.”

Pam fidgeted and inadvertently pulled the tag off of the teabag. She was nervous about something and Jim wondered if it had to do with her showing up unannounced. She placed her mug on the coffee table and stood. “I brought you something...I wanted to talk to you about something so I brought like a “visual aid” so to speak. I’ll go get it!”

Jim watched in confusion as Pam left his house before coming back. She didn’t close the door this time but meandered into the middle of the room, standing there awkwardly. She didn’t have any “visual aids” with her. “What did you want to talk about,” he questioned.

“I’m concerned about your eating habits,” Pam cried. “I’m really worried about you. I wanted to approach you about this but I wasn’t sure how to go about it. Watching you waste away is really hard on me and other people too.”

Jim held his tongue from yelling at Pam and instead rolled his eyes in what he hoped looked good-naturedly. Jim wasn’t sure how long he was expected to put up with the jeering and stares from his coworkers without doing something about it. Their attempts in making him feel bad initially worked, but after shedding his excess weight he no longer cared about what they thought. He was pleased with himself. “Pam, I’m fine. I’m not wasting away. Could you be more melodramatic?”

Jim’s door squeaked open. He turned his head to the sound, perplexed that someone other than Pam would be entering his house. He was confronted by the sight of his brother.

“Get out,” Jim said quietly. “I don’t want you here. You need to leave too, Pam.”

“Hey, buddy,” Pete said awkwardly. He eyeballed Jim’s body and Jim felt himself growing angry that his good for nothing brother dared judge him. “How are you holding up?”

“I won’t ask you again. Leave.”

“We just want to talk to you,” Pam whispered. She approached Jim and took his hands into hers. He tried pulling away but couldn’t. “I promise, we aren’t planning on doing anything against your will. Can we talk, please?”

“You still being here is going against my will, Pam!” Jim was so upset that his head swam. Trying to fight back the shaking, Jim sat down in his armchair and cradled his head. “I only let you in because I thought you had something important to say, Pam—”

“This is important!”

“—But you obviously don’t. My head hurts and I’m tired. Leave me the hell alone!”

“Jim, you seem a bit ill,” Pete said gently. “Why don’t we go to urgent care?”

Jim sighed. “And what the hell is urgent care going to do about a headache? I’ll be okay if I didn’t have two dumbasses up my ass right now. Leave!”

Angry, Pam said, “I’m a dumbass for caring about you? You are sick, Jim! And you know that you’re sick! I don’t know why you’re pretending otherwise.”

“Because I’m happy? Would you rather I be fat and miserable like you, Pam?!”

“You seem pretty miserable right now, asshole,” Pam spat back. “You were miserable before and now all you are is miserable and starved.”

Jim stood to lord his height over Pam and to throw her and his brother out. However, he got up too fast and the room began to spin. He hunched over, trying to steady himself, but soon the floor was quickly rushing toward his face.

* * *

Pam felt like the world’s biggest dick. As she sat beside Jim’s hospital bed she couldn’t help but reflect on what she said to her best friend before he passed out. Sure, what Jim said to her was cruel and hurtful, and being sick wasn’t an excuse for what transpired. But of course, he was defensive. She expected that and for Jim to lash out. Plus, Pam knew she wasn’t fat. She wasn’t offended. In a twisted way, it made sense that “fat” would be Jim’s go-to insult. He probably thought it would cut others as deep as it cut him.

They called an ambulance the moment Jim passed out. They tried resuscitating him while they waited but were unsuccessful in getting Jim to wake. There were brief moments throughout the whole ordeal where Pam wondered if Jim would die. She wondered what had happened had she not riled him up. Would he have been alright? Or would he have still fainted? Maybe he was due to faint regardless, and Pam and Pete’s being there was a blessing. What if Jim fell and hit his head? Suffered some other health issue? Went into shock? Had a heart attack? All of these scenarios played through Pam’s head. She loved Jim deeply and didn’t want anything bad to happen to him.

Jim didn’t wake up the evening he was admitted. They had to hook Jim up to IVs to get the nutrients he had been lacking. He currently had four different IVs being pumped into him. He was also on oxygen to assist with his breathing. He looked so pitiful, and Pam felt awful for waiting as long as she did to get Jim help.

It wasn’t until the next day that Jim stirred. He was groggy and disoriented when he woke. Once he noticed the IVs sticking out of his arm he became belligerent. Fortunately, he was still low on energy and thus was too tired to rip them from his veins. 

“I can’t believe you’d pull this stunt again,” Jim said drowsily, obviously talking to Pete. “I fucking _hate_ you.”

“I promise it’s not like that,” Pete soothed. “We’re just at the hospital. You’ll be cleared to go home soon.”

Pam could tell Jim didn’t believe his brother. However, he wanted to prove the point that he was upset with Pam by ignoring her, so he couldn’t ask her for confirmation.

“Yeah, I had him institutionalized when he was in college,” Pete sheepishly admitted to Pam privately. “He was really sick then. Our parents never gave psychological help a chance when he was younger. I thought therapy would be able to address the root issue more than a regular hospital stint would. I didn’t think he’d need to be there for six weeks. But he made things difficult for the doctors. Didn’t gain any weight, refused to eat. They had to keep him on IVs and pumps for a while he got so bad. Only when he started gaining weight was he allowed to leave. But six weeks? He missed a large chunk of the semester and had to withdraw from the term, stay an extra year. He’s resented me for that decision ever since.” Pete looked through the window at Jim’s IV drips and sighed.

“How long has he been like this?”

“I want to say since he was seven or eight? That’s when he was first diagnosed.”

Pam frowned; that was young. She assumed that Jim developed anorexia in high school or college. But that contradicted Kelly saying “Jim had been doing this for decades”.

“Our mother was a very distant woman,” Pete continued. “She loved us in her own, cold manner. She was a perfectionist, everything had to go her way. She didn’t mean any harm. But sometimes she’d make little snide comments. As a kid, I learned to ignore them. Jim didn’t and her words drove him crazy. And our parents really didn’t know how to help without making more comments, and well. It was a vicious cycle.”

“Do you regret it,” Pam asked. “Having him institutionalized?”

“Well, our relationship has been damaged since, and he treats talking to me as if his teeth are being pulled out. But no, I don’t. He was close to dying. And he’s gotten a lot better than he had been. He’s had scares since then, but none as bad as his sophomore year. This doesn’t even compare to that time.”

Pam stayed by Jim’s side even though he clearly didn’t want her there. She wanted to know what he was thinking but couldn’t unless he told her. But Pam also needed Jim to know that she loved and supported him even if he was mad at her.

Jim made gestures at her that Pam didn’t understand. When she shook her head he did it again but slower. “Don’t be a dick, Jim. I don’t know what any of that means. You can use your words.”

Jim rolled his eyes and said, “Can I see my chart?”

Pam got it for him. “See? Was it that hard to talk to me? Hi.”

Jim muttered hello back while he scanned his chart. He abruptly set it down, an eerie grin on his face. Pam picked up the chart and honed in on what Jim was looking at.

_Weight: 108 lb/49 kg_

“What were those hand gestures you kept making at me,” Pam asked instead of mentioning Jim’s weight or his fixation on it.

“Sign language.”

Pam snorted. “I don’t know sign language, Jim. Did you learn it for a prank against Dwight?”

“No. When I was a kid I used to use it.”

Pam turned to Jim in her chair. Jim didn’t talk about his childhood and she didn’t ask. It was one of those things. 

Jim continued. “I think I was eleven or twelve or something. My voice started to crack. It sounded so bad. I couldn’t bear to listen to myself talk. It couldn’t to the point that I didn’t want to hear my own thoughts because they sounded like my voice and I just couldn’t. So I stopped talking. I had to learn sign language if I wanted to say anything more than “yes” or “no”.”

That broke Pam’s heart. She leaned over and hugged Jim, careful not to crush his IVs. To her surprise, he hugged her back.

“I’m sorry I called you fat, that was out of line,” Jim said.

“I’m sorry I called you miserable,” Pam said back.

“Don’t be. It’s true: I am miserable. How much longer do you think I’ll be here?”

Pam wasn’t sure but told Jim she’d find out for him. She doubted the nurses would tell her anything though since she wasn’t of relation to Jim. “We want to keep him at least until we can get ten pounds on him. We’re nervous about releasing him with his condition so frail right now. At around one-twenty, we’re confident that he won’t collapse again, although it’s not an ideal weight for him.” The shock on Pam’s face must have been evident because the nurse said, “you are Pam Beesly, right? In his file, it says you’re his girlfriend and it was okay to share info about his treatment with you.”

Pam blushed. Pete must have written that. Maybe as a prank, or perhaps he thought it to be true. Regardless, Pam nodded and thanked the nurse for the information about her “boyfriend”.

“They want you to gain ten pounds,” she told Jim. “Afterwards you can leave. There’s an expectation that you’ll be seeing a psychiatrist and doctor once you leave, but there’s no talk of having you moved to a psychiatric ward.”

“Okay,” Jim said glumly. “Yeah. I think I can do that. I don’t know how long it’ll take but I’ll try.”

Pam smiled and held his hand. She stayed until after dinner with the promise she’d be back tomorrow.

* * *

Naturally, everyone in the office wanted to visit Jim. Jim, for his part, didn’t bar anyone from seeing him, although he confided to Pam that he was sick of hearing them apologize for trying to feed him. It was the first time that she got insight into what Jim thought about their coworkers’ misguided attempt at helping him. From what she gleaned, Jim thought they were apologizing for hurting his feelings but not for making it known they thought he was fat. Pam tried explaining that no one thought he was fat but the opposite, but Jim didn’t believe her.

Pam wasn’t as generous as Jim. While she wanted to prevent most of the office from bothering Jim, she couldn’t. But she did specifically ask Kelly not to visit Jim. Kelly was extremely upset by the request but kept her distance.

Pam was not jealous of Kelly nor did she think anything happened between the two of them. But Kelly was a bad friend to Jim. She had been well aware of Jim’s eating disorder yet still sought out his warped judgment on how to get thinner. She played into his delusions by telling him he was doing the right thing by not eating. She knew he was in bad shape but kept it to herself, gambling with his life. Pam couldn’t say that Kelly had Jim’s best intentions at heart, even if she thought she did. 

But it wasn’t fair to place the blame solely on Kelly. Jim was a shitty friend to her too. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that Kelly was obsessed with her weight and maybe had an eating disorder herself. Nobody knew that Jim was sick better than Jim himself. Pam understood that it was difficult for him to break the thought patterns he had about his and other people’s bodies but he was still complicit in harming Kelly. He told her to do things that he understood were unhealthy. He coached her through bad diets and eating habits, happy to share his mindset with someone else. Kelly was impressionable and Jim knew that. He was well aware he was making a negative impact on her but didn’t care because Kelly stroked his ego. Pam thought it best for both of them if they stayed away from each other for a while.

“Anyone else coming,” Jim asked, bored. Pam observed him. Jim stared at the television, trying to look unaffected and not meeting her eye.

“If you’re bothered by them visiting I’ll tell them to stop coming,” Pam said softly. “Please don’t feel like you have to do this. You don’t have to put yourself through this.”

“I like having visitors. It...it gets kind of lonely when you’re at work.”

“I can take tomorrow off and spend the day with you. If you let me, I can go to your place and get your Switch so we can play together.”

Jim turned a bit red at that and looked away. “I can’t ask you to skip work for my benefit, Pam.”

Pam didn’t mind. Spending time with Jim was her favorite thing to do. And she’d rather take the day off and selfishly do her favorite thing than allow Jim to go stir crazy in his bleak hospital room. “I want to. Do you want me to?”

Jim paused for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. I do.”

Pam sat on the edge of Jim’s hospital bed, pulling her legs up to her chest as she arranged herself. She hoped Jim wouldn’t have to stay in the hospital much longer. It had been two weeks since he was admitted. Jim managed to gain seven pounds and was complying with his treatments. Pam could tell Jim was uncomfortable but commended him for making the effort to get better. Or at least, get out of the hospital.

“This is awkward,” Jim started. “Can I ask you a favor?”

“Of course,” Pam said with the utmost seriousness. “What can I do for you?”

Jim buried his face in his hands. “Ugh.”

“What’s up?”

“I saw this commercial…”

“For?”

“Uh…? Long John Silver’s?”

Pam smiled. “Do you want to try it?”

“Yeah...I’ve never eaten there before. I think it was the variety platter.”

Pam wasn’t one for seafood from fast-food restaurants. But she wouldn’t knock Jim taking the initiative to eat. Usually, while he didn’t put up resistance when being fed, he had trouble eating unless incentivized (mostly with visits from Pam). Food had to be brought to him and he didn’t seek it out. So the fact that he craved something was both shocking yet comforting. “No problem, I’ll get it for you.”

So for dinner that night Jim and Pam at Long John Silver’s. It wasn’t great, or even good, and they ended up splitting a small pizza instead while they watched TV. Still, Pam was happy.

“So Long John Silver’s isn’t the kind of place you’d take someone on a date,” Jim commented.

“If you hated them, sure.” Pam remembered fast-food dates with Roy. Sharing a four-for-four from Wendy’s or eating at the Subway inside Wal-mart. They weren’t fun. “You realize this is fast-food and not takeout?”

“Ah, I didn’t realize. Thanks for telling me, Beesly.”

Pam wondered. “Have you ever eaten fast food?” Pam had never seen Jim nor known Jim to eat fast food.

“Maybe a few times? I didn’t eat it growing up and never saw the appeal of it once I was on my own.”

“It’s easy food, you wouldn’t have to worry about cooking.”

“I’d prefer to starve.” Jim said it so plainly that Pam wasn’t sure if it were a joke or not. It was only by his belated smile that Pam realized it was Jim’s dry humor at play.

“Yeah, but no. I wouldn’t take anyone to a fast food restaurant for a date.”

“Shucks. I knew a nice girl I wanted to take there…”

Pam felt herself becoming irrationally bitter at the mention of Jim liking someone. “Well, maybe Long John Silver’s would be a suitable place for Kelly.”

Jim chuckled awkwardly. “What’s that about?”

“Nothing. I’m sure Kelly would love that place. Definitely an upgrade from anywhere Ryan takes her.”

“I’m under the impression you think I like Kelly.”

“You could have fooled me,” Pam muttered. 

Jim shifted across the bed so that he was sitting shoulder to shoulder with Jam. “I know I’ve been hanging out a lot with her lately but it’s not because I like her.”

_It’s so you two can share tricks of the trade_. Pam already realized that and felt dumb she allowed her jealously to show. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry I made you think that.”

“...so who are you trying to take on a shitty date to Long John Silver’s?”

“I dunno. There’s this cute redhead receptionist where I work. I was hoping she’d like to go out with me once I got my shit together. Maybe she won’t…”

Pam swallowed the lump in her throat. “I think you should ask. You never know what she might say.”

“You think she’d say yes?”

“I can’t imagine why she wouldn’t. I don’t know her or anything but you’re a catch, Jim. She’d be lucky to have you.”

“I don’t know,” Jim said self-deprecatively. “I’m a bit…” He gestured around the room with his eyes. “I’m a lot to deal with, I don’t know if it’s worth it…”

“You’re human,” Pam whispered. She took Jim’s hand in hers. He didn’t move away. “No one expects you to be perfect. You’re not worthless just because you’re struggling. You’re definitely worth it.”

“I just don’t want to drag you into my issues…”

“We can work on it together,” Pam said stubbornly.

“You were with Roy for a long time...and...I dunno Pam, I don’t want you to think it’s your job to fix the men you’re with.”

It was apparent Jim liked Pam as much as she liked him. Maybe his self-esteem was the reason why it took so long for them to get together. Pam wouldn’t let it stand in their way now. “It wouldn’t be me fixing you. It would be us working together to tackle your problems. So you wouldn’t be doing it alone.”

“I just feel bad,” Jim said, his voice breaking on every word. “I’ve been trying to move past this, I really have, but I keep falling into the same shit. It’s not like I want to be this way but…”

_You don’t know how to not be this way_ Pam thought. He’d been anorexic his entire life, along with a multitude of other issues, and never had a reprieve from his problems. Of course, it was difficult to change: no matter how hard he tried it never came. Pam didn’t blame him and didn’t think any differently about him for it. “I know, Jim. Not being able to help it doesn’t make you a bad person. It doesn’t mean you’re not trying. It just means change is slow. It’ll come eventually.”

Jim gave Pam a small smile and held her hand tighter. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

“It’s my pleasure.”

They began planning their first date.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry if I didn't do a good job depicting an eating disorder or how people respond to it. I admittedly don't know much about it or how to address people with EDs. I'm also sorry if Pam came off as harsh at times. She means well.


End file.
